


In Your Satin Shoes

by voksen



Series: WKverse [5]
Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Alternate Universe, Backstory, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-22
Updated: 2009-10-22
Packaged: 2017-10-28 08:04:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/305683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voksen/pseuds/voksen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What If (tm) Yohji met Asuka somewhere neutral?</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Your Satin Shoes

Yohji meets her in Shibuya, outside a karaoke bar, and she is by far the best-looking girl he's seen all day, if maybe not in his entire life: she's slim, short-haired, pretty, her uniform skirt riding up just a little when she walks, just enough to show the top of her stockings, and she has _great_ legs, her high heels setting them off just right.

The best part is, she catches him staring and looks right back at him, raising an eyebrow, not shy in the least. And she likes what she sees; he can tell by that smile, the sway of her hips as she slips away from her chattering friends, coming right towards him. He grins back, matching her confident look; he loves a woman who knows what she wants, especially if what she wants is _him_.

Within half an hour they're in a hotel; the cheapest room is still expensive enough that they have to pool their money, but he doesn't care and she doesn't seem to, either: the second the door clicks shut behind them, she's kissing him, arms around his neck to pull him down to her. He drops his hands to her ass and steers them towards the bed.

When he pushes her down onto it and kneels down in front of the bed, she sits back up to see what's going on - and laughs as he unbuckles the ankle strap of her sleek red shoe, wriggling her foot in his hand. "Foot fetish?" she guesses, teasing, and he grins, shakes his head, undoes the other one anyway. She _does_ have nice feet, but that's not his thing, not really, not quite. He pulls her closer to the edge of the bed, hands sliding up her legs, smooth and slow and easy in one unbroken line now that the shoes are gone, until she's right at the edge and he's kneeling between them.

She's definitely into the program, still, because when he keeps going, his hands dipping under her skirt, she lifts up, letting him get hold of her panties and pull them down, slowly, teasing both of them. He drops them on top of her shoes, then looks up at her. She grins mischievously, shifts slightly, slides her legs up his sides to his shoulders, hooks her ankles together around the back of his neck.

It's possibly the hottest thing any girl's ever done to him, even outside the idea he's supposed to be getting from it. He leans his head against her calf, the sheer nylon of her stocking smooth against his face, and makes her wait just a little longer for what she wants, makes _himself_ wait.

She gives in first, reaching forwards, running her fingers through his hair - then pulling him forwards, firmly enough that he's not about to try resisting. So he goes along with it, leaning in far enough that she thinks she's got him, lies back, her hands more resting in his hair than pulling - and he turns his head, breathing across her thigh where the band of her stocking curves, kisses, licks just above it, nuzzling, slowly, slowly moving further up.

By the time he's done, her breathing is a shivery mess and her hands are tight in his hair again, demanding. She's so wet when he takes his first taste of her that he almost wonders if she's already come, but the way she _moans_ means he's not about to stop. He traces circles around her clit with his tongue, alternating broad strokes, tiny pointed flicks, and even better than the fucking amazing noises she's making is the way her thighs tremble, press against his head, the way he can feel the tension, the _need_ in her all the way down through her calves, hooked over his shoulders and pressed into his back.

Yohji moves down, just a little, all that her tight grip on him will allow, licks long and broad, then pushes his tongue into her, deep as it'll go, the bridge of his nose hard against her clit. She cries out, squirming, pulling his face so hard against her he can't breathe, shudders racking her, her heels kicking him hard in the back.

When her grip loosens on him a little, he shucks out of his clothes faster than he ever has before, joining her on the bed and pulling her up on top of him. She gasps, laughing again, and reaches to caress him - and then sits up, straddling his thighs, jerking him quick; a little awkward, but more than good enough. It's so easy to touch her this way, pushing her skirt up again so he can see everything and her hand on him at the same time, and _fuck,_ he's left a hickey on the inside of her thigh, an inch above her stocking top, red and vivid. He comes embarrassingly fast, groaning, arching into her touch.

She strokes him through it, then swings off him to lie down by his side and rest her arm across his chest. They're quiet, recovering, but it's not awkward at all: it feels... good, companionable, not anything like a one night stand. There's just one problem.

"Hey." He nudges her gently, still not wanting to move much more than that. "What's your name...?"

"Asuka," she says. "You?"


End file.
